Ravenous

The Panda cub was ravenous!
His eyes looked everywhere!
The bamboo shoots caused quite a fuss!
He didn't stop to stare!
He pounced upon them one-by-one
And sometimes two-by-two!
His feeding frenzy had begun,
Like it was something new!
He chomped and chomped upon each shoot,
With relish and delight!
As if each was a tough old boot
Deserving every bite!
I pity fools who intervened,
When he was in his stride...
He'd fight them off as if a fiend!
He'd never run and hide!
He saw them first! He owned them all!
The feast was his alone...
So he sat down and had a ball...
That's why he looks full grown!


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Ravenous'.

More Gayford poems here:
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You Talking To Me?

A proper little gangster glared,
Ferociously at first,
At anyone who stopped and stared
And dared to do their worst...
Then confrontation reared its head,
Hell-bent upon a fight,
As if he had no sense of dread
And in it took delight...

So he asked, 'You talking to me?
There's no-one else around! '
He glared with utmost emnity,
As if meant to astound...
Yet there he was, a simple soul,
No muscles and no brawn,
Just beady eyes as black as coal
And smirking full of scorn...

I looked at him and laughed out loud!
I sniggered to his face!
To see him all puffed up and proud,
As if he owned the place!
I left him there, unharmed, unhurt,
Still thinking he looked cool...
In truth, he was a harmless squirt,
A poor deluded fool...


Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'You Talking To Me? '.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Eye To Eye

I like most elephants I've seen,
I like them, yes, I do...
I like it when they don't act mean,
I like how they swim, too...
I like the way that each one grins,
I like their tusks like nails...
I like their wrinkled leather skins,
I like their swishing tails...
I like it that they look so wise,
I like their marching troop...
I like the twinkles in their eyes,
I like their ears that droop...
I like the way they walk along,
I like their patient grace...
I like it most that while they're strong,
Thank God, they know their place...


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Eye To Eye'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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First Adventure

Two tigers traipsed their jungle jaunt,
With nothing else in sight,
The universe itself to taunt
And ready for a fight!
It didn't matter, great or small,
For neither tiger cared,
This was their moment, walking tall,
Their first adventure shared!

So stride for stride they strutted forth,
Exploring, come what may,
Yes, forward east, west, south or north,
Until the end of day...
Together, proud and jubilant,
Triumphant tigers still,
It didn't matter where they went
And, boy, was it a thrill!

Their first adventure, on the prowl,
No Mum and Dad in tow,
With nothing but a mighty growl
As onward they must go!
United, steadfast, confident!
Give them a real wide berth...
If they see you, stay nonchalant
And run for all you're worth!


Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'First Adventure'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Full Attention

The tiger took his merry time
Wading in the water...
Why shouldn't he? It felt sublime,
Perfectly in order...

So he went up and he went down
And he went left and right
And though each stripe looked like a frown,
His joy was at its height...

This is the life, he seemed to say,
Nothing else quite like it!
No hurry to be on his way,
In truth, he must admit!

Up to his neck in Shangri-La,
Nirvana, Heaven, peace...
It wasn't likely he'd go far,
When he could take his ease.

Did it have his full attention?
Yes, he felt comfy there...
Had he lost all apprehension?
He didn't have a care!

No point in leaving for a while...
So he felt mighty glad...
If anything can make you smile,
Like him, get stuck in, lad...


Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Full Attention'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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My Hero

The lion cub was mighty proud
As he stared up above
And heard his father roar so loud,
For he was truly tough!
Adorned with wondrous golden mane
That circled like a ring
With all his coat like golden grain
And every inch a king...

The lion cub looked at his jaw,
Like granite, chiselled stone,
Commanding solemn silent awe,
For he was fully grown...
Yet there he stayed, composed, serene,
As if the world was his.
The alpha male, the sovereign,
No greater dream than this...

The lion cub would grow in time...
His father knew it well.
Their destiny was so sublime,
It caused his heart to swell.
That's why he let the cub stay close,
To learn what must be done...
For who knows all the lion knows,
How best to love his son?


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'My Hero'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Curious Presence

There was a presence, close to me,
With soft-like sounds no more,
At first, a solemn mystery
Until I could be sure...
And then a lone wolf dead ahead,
From nowhere, now in sight,
Such that there was a sense of dread,
A chill that led to fright...

And yet I sensed the danger passed,
As if there were no harm,
Its curious presence there at last,
No mutual alarm...
No fear from me, no fear from him,
Just co-existence now,
Living souls, with each a pilgrim,
With peace our silent vow...

He looked at me, his coat aglow,
His eyes like dogs I owned,
Perhaps that's why I let him go,
His future life condoned...
With ears on high, transfixed above,
Alert to all around...
Though times were hard and life was tough,
A vision to astound...

Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Curious Presence'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Indian Adolescent

The Bengal tiger cub looked fine,
On top form for his age,
Maturing like the finest wine
And not locked in a cage...
As free as birds that fly the sky,
As wily as the rest,
As fast as those that seem so spry,
The tiger cub looked blessed.

Consider everything you know,
Of all the creatures seen,
His fur looks like it's all aglow,
Magnificent, serene...
He's on the prowl, for who knows what?
No longer playing games...
And now he'll give it all he's got,
With newly-focused aims...

He's confident that he must win,
He's steadfast through and through...
So valiant he'll not give in,
He'll do what he must do.
His eyes are like two worlds apart,
Together they're a team...
Yet driven by that tiger's heart,
Who knows what dreams they'll dream?


Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Indian Adolescent'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Three Sentries

They also serve who stand and wait...
And meerkats know this well,
For them, well, life's just great, just great,
As if you couldn't tell.
It's funny that they'll stare and stare
And watch the day go by...
From predators they must beware,
For some can even fly!

Their little noses twitched away
Mid whiskers to and fro...
While they kept poses, come what may,
No matter what the foe!
Like shepherds guarding flocks by night,
They simply stood their ground...
While one looked left and one looked right
And one looked round and round...

Three sentries stood the test of time,
Comparing now and then,
Their loyalty was quite sublime,
Enough to shame some men!
With throbbing tootsies they stood tall,
Defiant, unafraid...
As if each were a sentinel
That God Himself had made...


Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Three Sentries'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com

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Cheetah Glow

With those distinctive tear-stained eyes
The cheetah looked around,
With ears alert to realise
Each sudden nearby sound...
In hunting mode, the cheetah sensed
Each second one-by-one,
Alone, aloof and without friends
Beneath the burning sun...

The sizzling light shone down all day,
Upon the cheetah's fur,
To warm its cold heart all the way,
Whatever must occur...
For cheetahs want to stay alive,
Regardless of the cost...
They fight a war so they survive,
Until the war is lost...

This cheetah's stare looked left and right,
For something unaware,
Before the creature's taken flight
On land or in the air...
As fast as cheetah legs can run,
Starvation is the foe,
Beneath the ever-burning sun
That makes the cheetah glow...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cheetah Glow'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Brothers

Two cheetahs look out with concern
At Nature in the raw,
With focussed eyes that seem so stern
At sights they can't ignore...
Each joins his father and mother,
No more the awkward child,
Together, brother and brother,
Two cheetahs in the wild...

For everywhere, new dangers roam,
No matter where they go...
No matter, near or far from home,
They fight... or flee each foe...
Their fast legs save them from defeat,
To fight another day...
From predators too strong to beat,
These two must run away...

As scavengers, they've got it made,
But fights just aren't their style,
When all the factors have been weighed,
They'd rather run a mile...
But come a fight they can't avoid,
They'll take it in their stride...
With valiant courage then employed,
Two brothers... side-by-side...


Denis Martindale, copyright, July 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Brothers'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot.com

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Golden

'That's it! I'm pooped! ' the lion said,
'I'm just a cub, that's all! '
And so he laid his heavy head
With no more strength to crawl...
'I've done the lot! ' he said with pride,
'I've jumped, I've pounced, I've chewed! '
And having yawned, now bleary-eyed,
He sighed, a worn-out dude...

'I know it's only half-past-three!
But I'm plum-tuckered now!
Did you see my sister chase me?
All I can say is wow!
She's run me ragged all day long,
As if she had it planned!
She bit my tail, that's simply wrong!
She's getting out of hand! '

The lion cub complained again,
'She's safe for now, I know,
But I'll get back at her and then,
I'll teach that so-and-so! '
Then all at once his eyes shut tight,
All golden rules to flout,
In dreams he schemed with all his might,
'I'll sort that missy out! '

Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Golden'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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Siesta Time

The lioness was much more wise
Than two cubs in her charge,
For one of them had droopy eyes
As sleep was looming large...
His little head was heading south
And Mum was smirking now,
A crooked smile across her mouth,
A frown upon her brow...

The other cub was somewhat still,
Propped up with sturdy limbs,
But pretty soon he'd lose the will
Just as the sunshine dims...
But sleepy head was sinking fast,
His jaw upon the rocks,
His eyelids heavy at half mast,
Like gormless Goldilocks!

Mum shook her head yet didn't growl,
He had to learn one day,
He had no need to fight just scowl
To scare something away...
Just bare the teeth, just stare them out,
Make sure they know he's cross!
No need to chase them all about!
Just let them know who's boss!


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Siesta Time'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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Guardians Of The Den

Behold the untamed meerkats there
Now side-by-side on guard,
As if the whole wide world to dare,
As if all else were barred...
Each stare's just meant to make it clear,
'Clear off, the lot of you!
There's no-one here who wants you here!
So you know what to do! '

Bravado's such a wondrous thing
In ones as small as these,
As if to leave us wondering,
Can they do as they please?
For each one's a tiny meerkat
And not that tall in height!
So who are they, to make us scat,
To scarper left and right?

To you and I, they're not that strong,
Courageous, yes, but weak,
To fight with them would just seem wrong,
Their faces look so meek...
Let's let them be all they can be,
Just visit now and then,
So we can come back soon to see
The guardians of the den...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Guardians Of The Den'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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The Watchers

Two wily wolves were waiting there
For something new to see,
Beyond investing time to stare
At endless scenery...
It didn't matter, his or hers,
Full stomachs now were gone
And deep within, where hunger stirs,
Reminders rumbled on...

Familiar thoughts had thus returned
To haunt them once again,
Recalling lessons both had learned
Which helped them now and then.
They licked their lips like hunters do,
Though nothing was in sight,
Yet sensing there was something new
About to get a fright!

The watchers chose their lucky spot,
Their waiting game to play...
Four starving eyes checked every dot
That flew or walked their way...
At last, their next meal sauntered by,
Quite calm and fancy free...
And since he had no wings to fly,
The rest is history...


Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Watchers'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Lion Cub

To study him, as he was now,
You'd think that he looked swell.
This lion cub with wrinkled brow
Was known to cast a spell...
Your first impressions are misled,
For he's no gentle soul...
Just tired out, with weary head,
Till he regains control...

Once back on form, he's set to pounce!
He's on all fours again!
As if on springs, he'll leap and bounce
Before he counts to ten!
This little jewel is known to prowl
And ambush suddenly...
He even makes his Mother growl,
While Dad stares solemnly...

But does he care, displaying shame?
Does he observe their rules?
They've never known him to be tame!
He treats them all as fools!
But one day soon, he'll stand and fight,
No matter what this brings!
Yes, one day soon, with all his might,
He'll join the lion kings!


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lion Cub'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Winter Repose

A lone Siberian tiger
Was resting on a hill,
All dressed in white and golden fur,
Reclining, oh, so still...
Accepting all that Fate had thrown,
Resigned to come what may...
Yes, there he was all on his own,
Just taking in the day...

He couldn't see a soul for miles
And nothing flew above...
And every day he faced new trials,
He met no-one to love...
The lonely figure looked around
At all his eyes surveyed...
And there, he didn't hear a sound
And so, felt quite dismayed...

Without true love, what have we got?
It's true, God only knows...
We know that it can't be a lot,
Like tigers in repose...
Yet hope abides in tigers, too,
And so they persevere...
Yes, they must do what we must do,
Until true love is here...


Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Winter Repose'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Jungle Trail

The treacherous tiger tip-toed
Towards the jungle trail...
Obedient to the tigers' code,
He knew he must not fail.
White tigers like to do their best,
As if they were like kings!
Let other creatures stare impressed!
Pathetic underlings!

That's why he walked as if on air,
As if the world were his.
So nonchalant, so debonair -
What more to life than this?
Yet hunger tamed his thoughts for now,
He dined on humble pie...
What future would the Fates allow?
What victim would pass by?

He licked his lips, expectantly!
He sensed new prey was near...
He crouched down low, so none could see,
Then everything was clear!
He pounced like lightning! Head to tail...
A nightmare not a dream!
Triumphant on his jungle trail...
Expert, yet so extreme...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Jungle Trail'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Attentive

When meerkats stand and stare and stare,
Attentive they must be,
As if to prove how much they care
For friends and family...
No wonder, then, they gain respect,
From humans far and wide,
As from such duties none neglect
As they stand side-by-side...

Their little eyes are on alert,
Their little minds on guard,
In hopes that none of them get hurt,
For tragedies hit hard...
While other meerkats scampered near
As if life seemed a ball,
Two meerkats stood, no sign of fear,
Merely surveying all...

In time, some others would replace
And give these guys a rest,
For now, they stood there, poker face,
Content to do their best...
Two heroes there, one young, one old,
Four eyes as black as soot
And theirs the story to be told
Because their hearts were good...


Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2012.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Attentive'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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Danger

The lion lowered length-to-length,
With danger on his mind
And so he girded all his strength,
His purpose now defined...
His crinkled wrinkled brow felt tight,
His eyes glared to and fro,
Against each danger he must fight
And overcome each foe...

Survival was his only thought,
Adrenalin, his friend,
He'd either catch or he'd be caught,
To win or meet his end...
The sun above had seen it all,
Yet did not stir to save,
Why would it care if he should fall
Or fight so fierce and brave?

The lion's courage made him stay,
He didn't turn and run,
He didn't whimper like a stray
Unhelped by anyone...
His heart was beating oh so fast!
Then suddenly he leapt!
He lived with scars that never passed,
Yet his one life he kept...


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Danger'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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Afternoon Dip

Yes, the stream sure looked exciting
And pleased the tiger's eyes,
With his memories delighting,
He ran to Paradise!
He squelched his way on soft warm mud
And leapt into the air,
To part the waters with a thud
That made the birdies stare!

'He's back! ' they said in unison...
'We'll never get him out! '
They watched him while he had his fun
As he splashed all about...
'He's acting like a cub again!
Just like he did last week!
You'd never guess that he was ten
And simply past his peak! '

The tiger paused, looked up a spell...
'What's that! ? ' he growled aloud!
The birdies trembled, silence fell...
The tiger felt right proud!
The birdies gulped, as birdies do,
And shut their beaks real tight.
The tiger sniggered for he knew
His power and his might!


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Afternoon Dip'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
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